Holmes away from Home

Acceptance... and a Moose

Hello my little snugglemuffins! I have been reliably informed that my various PoV changes are confusing. Sorry. I'll try and do less of those in the future.
Adìos!
Tiger xx

Dedication: @coconutmelon

----------------Izzy's PoV-----------------

I looked at the next lesson on my timetable. Care of magical creatures today. This should be fun, right? Cute fluffy animals and all? Apparently the teacher was a bit weird, but it must have been some kind of social rule to not tell the new kids about them. I didn't even know the gender. My beretta tomcat (A.N. Her gun, not her actual cat.) was digging into my back. I had it tucked into the back of my robes because, well, that Phoenix Malfoy kid was scary, as was Hannah. Better to be safe than sorry. I joined the small stampede of excited students rushing down towards a large but shabby-looking cottage on the side of a steep slope. I was quickly joined by a very out-of-breath Cecilia. She got straight to the point.

"I've had an idea. Lunch break, our dorm, be there."

I nodded once in reply.
Suddenly, the sun was partially blocked out by large(ish) flying shape coming towards us. It appeared to be some kind of winged creature. And then it was out of the sun and I could see it clearly. It was...

A moose.
But not just any old moose.
This moose had glistening golden and purple wings protruding from between its shoulder blades, and its antlers were made of almost blindingly polished silver and encrusted with jewels. It was, in effect, a bling moose.

"Hello everyone, my name is Professor Caitlin, and as Hagrid has retired to raise a family, I will be teaching you care of magical creatures permanently."

It took me a second to register that the moose had spoken. And I didn't know moose behaviour very well, so I couldn't deduce the moose. (A.N. Hehe, that rhymed!) Could this day get any weirder?

:::Time skip:::

After a very interesting care of magical creatures lesson, it was lunch. Which meant meeting Cecilia in our dorm. I ran up there as fast as I could. Cecilia was standing over her bed, pulling various wires and electronics out of a kit bag. She started talking, not even looking at me.

"I figured, if you and I both recognised the name 'Sherlock Holmes', it would probably be on the internet somewhere."

I thought for a moment.

"Ummm... Cecilia? We're in an ancient castle in rural Scotland. We don't have Internet."

Cecilia shouted "AHA!" And pulled a WiFi router out of the bag. 'She'll never get it to work'

She took out her wand and said:

"Reparo!"

The WiFi light flashed green. I raised my eyebrow.

"My mum is a technician and my dad works for the U.S. Threat Reduction Agency, of course it's a WiFi router."
She mimicked my jab from last week.

And then she typed 'Sherlock Holmes' into the search bar.

--------------Cecilia's PoV---------------

It was simple. Names like that were definitely not common, and if we both recognised the name then it might be on the Internet. All I had left to do was fish out that old router I acquired. My old school didn't need it anyway. The students could use some time away from their phones. One swish of my wand and BAM! Ravenclaw tower, we have WiFi. I quickly clicked on the top hyperlink: 'The Science of Deduction'. Izzy shuffled in beside me, and I budged over to make room. The page stopped loading, and all we could do was stare. This Sherlock guy was like us. And he was far better. He was also super hot, with cheekbones you could cut yourself on, and a mess of floppy, inky black curls perched on top of his head. He was also heterochromatic. So basically, an older version of the boy that we followed through the diary. We had found the right guy, first time, which was probably a first for Google. I checked the links at the top: Home, John Watson, Cases, Index, Contact details, and Sherrinford's twins. We glanced at each other and clicked the last link. Here's the article that came up:

Sherrinford's Twins

On June 6th 2002, a pair of twin girls were given to the wrong parents in St. Bartholomew's Hospital in London. Their mother had died in childbirth and their father, Sherrinford, the brother I actually liked, died two years later in Iraq, leaving my Mycroft and I to track down the girls. However, we could not, as they had moved to America, and Mycroft's range ends at the coastline of Great Britain. Also, their new parents appeared to work closely with the American military, meaning Mycroft had some moral qualms against hacking into a governmental satellite. And so, even though I've been rather caught up with Moriarty, I'm still waiting for something to come up so I can get my nieces back. If you know anything about where they might be, or if you, reader mine, are the girls, you can get in touch with me using the details on the 'contact details' link at the top. I have provided a picture of what they should look like now.

-SH

I looked up from the laptop. So did Izzy. The picture was a picture of us. The silence was broken by Izzy screaming:

"Heeeeeeeyyyy Sistaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!"